Unanswered Questions
by Dark Kaneanite
Summary: Why does the dryer only eat one sock?


_A/N: Crack!Fic. I know, I know, I haven't really written a crack fic before but I was just loling too much not too. So enjoy my readers and like always, I don't own these men or even this plot seeing as how my totally random Mr. Kennedy...Kennedy just informed me that the idea came for him._

_

* * *

_

It never failed. Whenever he done laundry his socks always lost mates; only his socks. Like every other time before he searched each and every crevice he could find in the smooth metal barrel; and like every other time he came up empty handed. Mumbling darkly he snatched up his basket and stormed into his and Mark's room, the afore mentioned man snoozing peacefully with one of the dogs in the middle of the bed. Grumbling loudly he dropped the basket at the foot of the bed and angrily started sorting the warm clothing into piles.

"Think you could be a little more quiet? Some of us are trying to sleep." Came a sleepy rumble from the head of the bed.

With pursed lips he grabbed a pair of boxers and launched them at the groggy eyed man whom was stretching leisurely.

"I take it the dryer once more ate a sock?" Was the dry reply as the purple silk underwear were plucked from the smirking face and dropped onto the side of the large frame. "Tell you what, instead of getting angry just tell Mick to return them."

The off hand comment stopped him in his tracks and the red and black body suit slipped from his fingers.

"Mick? You named the dryer Mick?"

"What? Are you off yer rocker? Why would I name the dryer Mick?"

"You just said..."

"I know what I said, but I was talking about Foley."

More confused than ever he sat down heavily on the bed, running his hand over his restrained curls.

"What the hell does Foley have to do with my missing socks?"

The electric green eyes rolled with an accompanying sigh of annoyance.

"Where do you think he gets all his socks from? Mick is the reason you only get one sock back from the dryer."

He blinked slowly, his mind trying to wrap around the hair brained explanation. Pain exploded behind his eye lids the more he thought about it and after a few minutes he shook his head; ridding himself of the idiocy of his partner.

"Whatever, just help me pack for our trip."

Now it was the auburn haired man's turn to blink in confusion as he tried to recall where in the hell they could be going.

"Trip? We ain't go no damn trip. Vince gave us the month off."

He sighed as he grabbed a well worn travel bag from the closet and sat it next to the clothes basket, slowly and meticulously placing clothes into the bag.

"The retreat...the one Vince is forcing us to take because you tried to to embalm Austin."

The strong face scowled as he stood, his sweats riding low on his hips as his arms crossed over his wide, naked chest. It was a picture that always managed to steal his breath away and this time was no different. The thoughts that the sight were inspiring were drowning out the sulky rant of his older brother and he shook head again to stay on track.

"...I would have done it too if you hadn't of butted in."

With an eye-roll and a scowl he continued to pack; ignoring the nearly name 7 footer for the sake of their trip and his sanity. Arms wrapping around his waist made him jump slightly and he blew a breath out slowly as warm breath stirred the hairs on the back of his neck.

"Aww, why can't we skip it? It's not like it's anything more than some inane hippie bullshit being drummed into our heads by doped up numb skulls."

He turned his head and quirked an eloquent eyebrow.

"And what pray tell do we tell Vince when he finds out that ditched his retreat?"

"The truth, I fucked you through the mattress, relieved all my frustrations and fell a million times better."

A grin was heard within the cheeky statement and he shook his head in exasperation.

"It means nothing that you're my brother does it?" He asked as he turned and faced his brother.

"Not in the least."

The statement was growled and light hair pulling accompanied it; making him swallow hard with a groan. With a great feat of self discipline he untangled the large fingers from his curls and stepped away.

"As appealing as that sound, we're going so get packed."

Growls and thunderous grumbles met his declaration which was then followed by the slamming of random drawers and doors. With a sharply exhaled breath he picked up his phone and called to confirm their flight and then scheduled an ambulance to be on call the entire time they were at the retreat for the unfortunate soul that had to take the bottles of whiskey away that were being packed away lovingly.


End file.
